Ben left for work, leaving Ella alone at home. She waited until everything was quiet and still before sneaking straight into Ben's office, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. She didn't know exactly what she was looking for, but she had a hunch—if she searched long enough, she might find something valuable, something she could use as evidence one day.
"Ma'am, no one is allowed to go in there," one of the staff members said nervously from behind the door.
Ella froze, instinctively straightening up like a thief caught in the act.
"Why can't you mind your business and focus on what you're paid to do? Get out!" she snapped, her voice sharp and furious.
The maid's hands trembled as she stammered, "I… I'm sorry, ma'am." She hurried away, her steps hurried and anxious, as if the very walls of the house could report her to Ben at any moment.
Ella exhaled deeply, placing both hands firmly on her waist. "Whewww… I almost got caught. I need to be extra careful," she whispered to herself, her heart still racing.
Days passed. Ella kept checking and checking, rummaging through papers, drawers, and files, her eyes scanning every corner, every folder, every desk drawer. But every effort ended in vain. Nothing. Not a single clue.
One evening, Ben went out and didn't return at his usual time. Ella didn't care at first; after all, he was a grown man. But as the night stretched on and the clock's ticking echoed in the silence, unease crept over her.
Where is he? Where has he gone? Is he in trouble?
A hundred questions raced through her mind, each one sharper than the last.
By 2:00 a.m., Ben finally stumbled home. His suit was crumpled, his hair disheveled, and the scent of whiskey clung to him like a shadow.
"Where have you been? I was worried," Ella said softly, standing at the doorway. He ignored her, swaying slightly as he made his way upstairs.
"Leave me alone. Why do you care?" he muttered, slurring his words.
Ella sighed, moving closer, her hands steady despite her racing pulse. "You're drunk, Ben. Let me help you to your room."
With the maids' cautious assistance, she guided him upstairs.
"You're so heavy! What do you even eat?" she murmured, carefully laying him on the bed, feeling the weight of his body sink into hers for a moment.
Just as she began to turn away, his hand shot out weakly, grasping hers.
"Don't leave me… I need you," he said, his voice raw and desperate.
Ella froze, shocked and trembling. Her heartbeat spiked as she slowly turned back toward him. Without a word, she sat beside him, letting his head rest gently on her lap. Her fingers moved tenderly through his hair, tracing every line of his face, trying to soothe the storm raging inside him.
The room fell into silence. Only his heavy, uneven breathing filled the space. Then, in a sudden burst of impulse, Ben sat up and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers with an intensity that made her gasp. She tried to push him away, part of her protesting, but another part—a deep, unspoken longing—gave in.
Hours later, Ben awoke. Panic spread across his face as his eyes fell on Ella, naked and curled under his duvet.
"Oh my God… what have I done?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of guilt and disbelief.
He leapt from the bed and ran into the garden, which was bathed in the soft morning light. The vibrant roses, lilies, and orchids around him blurred as his mind raced. He buried his face in his palms, guilt and shame crushing him.
Why did I do that? What's wrong with me?
And yet… There was a strange, illicit happiness he refused to acknowledge.
"Don't feel guilty," Ella said softly from behind him, her voice warm and steady. "I wanted it too."
She moved closer, her night robe flowing in the breeze, and studied his troubled expression with a mixture of anger, pity, and longing.
Ben looked away, forcing a cold front. "Let this not happen again," he said, arrogance threading through his tone, and turned away to prepare for work.
Ella remained in the garden, fists clenched, heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
"Now that's it," she whispered under her breath, the frustration and shame mingling with a strange thrill of connection.
She lingered a moment longer to regain her composure, then headed inside to freshen up and have breakfast.
The table was silent, the atmosphere heavy as a graveyard. Neither of them made eye contact, the clink of cutlery echoing in the space between them.
Finally, Ben cleared his throat. "Mm… mm… mm," he muttered awkwardly, as if trying to find the right words.
"I never meant what I said out there," he continued, his voice quiet and careful. "I just wanted to prove to you that I'm not like my father—the kind of man who takes advantage of people. Please forgive me."
Ella didn't say a word. She simply nodded, her mind replaying his words over and over. "Please forgive me."
Anger had melted away. Surprise took its place. She never thought she'd hear Ben speak that word—"sorry"—especially from a man who was known for being arrogant, rude, and cruel. Yet now, for the first time, he sounded… human.